


Strike The Match

by saltyaratakas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Coming Untouched, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Praise Kink, Woman on Top, part one (?) of my endeavor to put the bottom Din content I want to see in the world, the OT3 is A Thing™ Omera just isn't physically there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-04-22 17:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22194673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyaratakas/pseuds/saltyaratakas
Summary: For all that he was a formidable opponent in battle and met her tenacity with the full force of his own in their friendly sparring matches, Din Djarin, in stark contrast, gave no resistance when Cara backed him into the dimly lit quarters of their lodging and pinned him to the bedding under the weight of her thighs.
Relationships: Cara Dune/Din Djarin, Cara Dune/Din Djarin/Omera, Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Omera (Star Wars)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 190





	Strike The Match

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to hauntedjaeger (hauntedfalcon), queen of this OT3, for beta reading and encouraging me the whole way and shoutout to queenofthefaceless for gassing me up, you guys are the real MVPs and this would still be in my drafts if it weren't for y'all <3

For all that he was a formidable opponent in battle and met her tenacity with the full force of his own in their friendly sparring matches, Din Djarin, in stark contrast, gave no resistance when Cara backed him into the dimly lit quarters of their lodging and pinned him to the bedding under the weight of her thighs. 

The moonless night on Luvia, the latest in the string of planets they’d visited in search of answers, cooled the humid air that hung in a thick, heavy curtain during the daytime, though it did little to staunch the heat rising off Cara’s skin. Sweat prickled at her hairline and gathered at her temples under the strip of fabric she’d tied around her eyes so Din could be free of his helmet and put his mouth to work between her legs. His lack of finesse was more than compensated for by the single-minded way he threw himself into the task of eating her out, and she could feel the concentrated furrow in his brow when she followed the planes of his face to sink a hand into his hair. He was a quick study, paying attention to what drew a moan out of her or made her hips grind down harder and she rewarded him for his diligence with a tug to the thick, sweat-damp locks threaded through the gaps of her fingers. 

“Mmn, gods, that’s  _ perfect _ ,” she panted, a grin forming on her lips when he responded with a soft groan. To think, Cara thought in a haze, they could have been doing this  _ ages _ ago. 

While she appreciated and was endeared by Din’s slow courtship of both her and Omera, she wouldn’t deny the part of her that had been increasingly eager to cross into this newer, more physical territory with him. The moment had come about unexpectedly, as was the way most things tended to happen between them--the past few days of trudging through the planet’s miles of muggy rainforest and surviving various hostile plants and fauna only to come up on another dead end had left her frustrated and irritable, and Din hadn’t seemed to be faring much better, stone silent with his shoulders set in a tight line when they’d made it back to the rustic town nestled in the mountain valley where they’d landed the Razor Crest. Between being exhausted and defeated, their sour moods only chafed at spots that were already sore, and they’d ended up in an argument in their cramped room at the town’s only inn. The heated exchange took an abrupt turn in a much different, but not unwelcome, direction when the close quarters barred them in until the only place left to go was into each other’s space, and they were face to face, gazes blazing and breathing hard into the scant inches separating them. Cara decided, then, that there were better ways to let off steam, and dragged a surprised, but enthusiastic Mandalorian with her. 

Their squabble was all but forgotten now as blunt fingernails dug into the dense muscle of her quads and Din's neck arched back, straining up to taste her like he was starving for it. She hadn’t even touched him yet and he was already shifting restlessly and trembling ever so slightly beneath her like she had him on edge. The thought of him, flushed and looking thoroughly ravished had her biting her lip and tightening her grip in his hair, directing him where she wanted him most and he obediently followed. 

“Use your--nnh,  _ yeah _ , like that,” she gasped, knees sliding apart a fraction further before she caught herself. Din’s stubble was going to leave friction burns on the insides of her thighs and his technique was messy, but it was exactly what she needed--something raw, unrestrained, and unconcerned with perfection. 

"So good," she purred like an afterthought, her head lolling back, eyes fluttering closed beneath the blindfold and wholly unprepared for the effect the words had on Din. He shuddered, hard, and the quiet noise he made sounded so wrecked it almost sounded like he'd been wounded. Realization dawned through her clouded mind, and a bolt of white hot  _ want _ ignited the glowing embers in her belly into a crackling flame. The edge of desperation in his movements she’d read as pent up stress now contained such an honest vulnerability, an ardent  _ need to please _ , that she felt overwhelmed with it. Words had never been her strong suit; she preferred to let her actions speak for her, but she would try give him this much.

“You were kriffing  _ made _ for this,” she told him, letting the words drip slow and sweet like honey. “If we got to spend every night like this, I'd wear a blindfold for the rest of my damn life."   
  
Din was quaking, shivering apart under her, and she wanted nothing more than to ruin him completely and then piece him back together in the dark where the rest of the world didn’t exist. Having him like this, stoic walls torn down, armor pried open to bare the unguarded center of him did nothing short of turning her blood molten, dizzy with what it meant to have his trust. She wouldn’t admit it, but her own shell that she wore was splintering too, the soft parts of herself that she shielded so carefully seeping through the cracks. 

The hot slide of his tongue over her clit had her arching back, body feeling bowstring taut with the coil of need that was twisting tighter and tighter in her gut. She braced her free hand on the swell of his pec, her nails catching on his nipple and he jolted, chasing her touch with a choked off noise. It made her ache, how responsive he was, and she knew it wouldn’t take much more to tear the last of her restraint to shreds. Heartbeat drumming in her ears, she uncurled her fingers from his hair, feeling for the ridge of his cheek and cradling the side of his face in her palm. 

“When we get home,” she murmured, thumb stroking over his temple, “we’ll put that pretty mouth to work, show Omera how good you are.”

Cara could feel the tremor that wracked through the whole length of his body and how his jaw dropped open against her, a noise that sounded like it was snatched from deep in his chest, next to his heart, escaping him and reverberating up the column of her spine. His arms tightened their grip on her legs, holding on and using her as an anchor as he came apart at the seams, and Cara felt all the air get knocked out of her with the realization he’d just come without a hand on him. 

Her hips stuttered in their rhythm as he shook through the last of the convulsions, mind struggling to reboot into some semblance of coherency. The flame in her roared to life with an intensity that had her grasping any part of him she could reach, spilling an uninhibited stream of hissed curses and whispered praise. Din melted into her touches as he came down from his high and exceeded her expectations once more, relaxing his jaw to let her ride his tongue and take what she needed. When he placed his own hand over the one she held to his cheek and pried it away to lace their fingers together, she felt herself crumble like wet sand, and cried out with the force her own release cresting and tumbling over her in a rushing wave. Pleasure finally blurred into oversensitivity, and she scrambled off of him to haul him into a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself on his mouth. He answered her passion with a tenderness that made her chest feel as though it was caving in. Greedily, her hands traced over the square lines of his jaw, shivering when her fingers slid in the wetness she’d left on the lower half of his face. 

When their kisses had slowed and ebbed away, Din pressed his forehead to hers in a gesture she vaguely recalled him mentioning as a form of Mandalorian kiss and she concentrated on catching her breath, luxuriating in the feel of his unmasked face so close to hers, their noses brushing together. The sound of his voice, rougher than usual from how she’d used him floated up through the quiet, soft and questioning, “Was that--...did I--” and she touched her fingers to his lips to shush him.   
  
“You were  _ incredible _ ,” she told him honestly, and kissed him again for good measure, although the blindfold still tied around her head skewed her aim and she caught the corner of his mouth instead. He didn’t seem to mind, squeezing her hand where he was still holding it and returning the sentiment in the quiet way he had before gently pulling away. The bed shifted and his weight was gone from beside her, though before she could call him back, she heard water running, then shutting off, and the sound of a cloth being wrung over a basin. When he returned, he brought the rag with him to clean her off as well and she sighed contentedly, glad not to have to haul her heavy limbs all the way to the fresher to wash away the stickiness clinging and drying on her skin. 

“Do you want to take that off?” he asked, tugging lightly at the blindfold and Cara shook her head.

“Keep it on for now. I want to stay like this for awhile.” 

She heard the whisper of his hair against the pillow as he nodded and took that as her invitation to curl in close, draping her arm over his waist. He tucked his head under her chin, his breath gusting against her collarbone, and she settled into the calm falling around them like silken drapes, her heartbeat syncing in step with the melodic chirping of insects in the grass outside the window and dreaming of the sprawling fields of Sorgan, of the sparkling water of the krill ponds, of the smile that shined brighter than any sun that would greet them when they returned. She dreamed of home, and how she could feel it here, too, on this strange planet, wrapped up with Din, and knowing Omera was among the same stars.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this extremely self indulgent foray into The Mandalorian fandom, I'm absolutely LIVING for the softness of this OT3


End file.
